


Too Close for Comfort

by cat_77



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis' arguably two best scientists are forced to rely on others for rescue.  They are as patient as can be expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Close for Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Written for donutsweeper's prompt of "Rodney and Radek, uncomfortably close."

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?” Radek asked innocently.

Rodney frowned, and quite possibly fumed. “Stop making an impossibly bad situation impossibly worse,” he clarified. Radek should not need to ask what the impossibly bad situation was as it should be obvious, even to him.

“How am I making it worse?” Radek asked, and even had the gall to sound reasonable.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s the constant pacing even though there’s no room to do it, or the thirty-fourth elbow to the chest when you sat down right now, or maybe it’s just the inappropriate looks and thankfully silent commentary on whatever it is you find so fascinating in this direction,” Rodney snarked.

“I find nothing fascinating,” Radek insisted in a half mumble. Louder, he tilted his head to the side and amended that to, “Other than the fact you think yourself fascinating to my interests.”

Rodney glared. Radek rolled his eyes.

He took a deep breath and grit out, “Just... stop staring. It’s a little unnerving.”

Radek simply shrugged. “I stare because you truly look horrible. You will not let me check for injury, but you are incredibly pale, even for you.” He stood again, and walked the three paces allowed in their current prison. “Given that we fell fourteen stories in tiny metal can with failing inertial dampeners and landed hard enough to crush the metal can on three sides, I show concern, nothing more.” He adjusted his cracked glasses and looked down at Rodney, making far from a pitying face. “You really do look awful.”

“Thank you very much, Doctor Zelenka,” Rodney snapped. His head hurt, and he did not think it was solely to do with the possibly life-threatening injuries he was sure to have at this point.

“I am a doctor; that is not an insult,” Radek pointed out.

Rodney glared. Again. Given that Radek did not respond to said glare, that meant either he was immune or utterly blind without a functional pair of glasses.

He looked over to the hunk of metal that was once the main control panel for the lift they were currently locked in. “Did you try…?” he started.

“Yes, already,” Radek reminded him. There was another pause, and then the tiny little man started digging through the scraps of metal, seemingly oblivious to the threat of tetanus or other injury. He must have found what he was looking for because he huffed and tossed a broken crystal to the floor. He dug back in again and called over his shoulder, “You know, it is funny in a way…”

“Us nearly crushed to death and locked away to die a slow horrific death is funny?” Rodney blinked.

“No, not that part, except the us part,” Radek amended. “It is funny that arguably two best scientists Atlantis has to offer are forced to rely on others for rescue.”

It was a sick sense of humor, but Rodney got it, so he offered out a chuckle. Plus, it was probably the closest either one of them had gotten to giving each other a compliment in months. “We’re doomed.”

Radek turned briefly to offer him a grin. “Doomed,” he agreed. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a decimated Power Bar, which he tossed in Rodney’s direction. At the questioning look he received, he shrugged again and said, “Hypoglycemia, not to be played with. I actually believe you about that one.”

“Thank you,” Rodney said, meaning it. He dug in with gusto, stopping himself from licking the wrapper, but just barely.

Not long after, they heard the sound of heavy machinery outside, followed by a ridiculously complex Morse Code message detailing the rescue attempts echoing off the walls. Rodney shook his head and keyed his comm., saying, “Sheppard, you idiot, the comms still work.”

There was a burst of static, and then a sheepish, “I knew that.”

Rodney settled back against the wall, hands over his ears to block out the worse of the sound of shearing metal, Radek at his side doing the same. They bumped elbows and more but, all in all, both agreed it could have been much worse.


End file.
